


In Sickness

by ChaoticWriterCrazy



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ Castlevania | Castlevania: Lament of Innocence, 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, And wants to go to sleep dammit, F/M, Gen, Leon is done with everything, M/M, Mathias is always a vampire in this, Sickfic, vampire shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 12:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17366222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticWriterCrazy/pseuds/ChaoticWriterCrazy
Summary: Leon doesn't appreciate late night visits.He especially doesn't appreciate late night visits from vampires.And he really doesn't appreciate late night visits from vampires while he's sicker than a dog.Mathias neither knows nor cares for any of these facts.





	In Sickness

Leon hates being sick.

Most people hate being sick, he realizes. It’s not really that special or unusual of an opinion.

But he has a habit of getting sick at the worst possible times.

Like now, when he was supposed to join Sara on her resupply trip. It’d become something of a tradition between them, taking several days to find the well-hidden magical market to find all the necessary parts and pieces for Sara’s work. Taking a break from fighting terrifying creatures of the night, (and also one terrifying but equally annoying vampire who won’t leave Leon alone). Listening to her go on and on about the hows and whys of what makes a magical weapon magical. It was actually more interesting to listen to now that he was actually starting to understand what she was trying to tell him, and could actually contribute to the conversation.

But no. He had to go and get sick. And not even just a little sick that he could just tough out by taking it a little easier than usual. No he had to go and get _really_ sick, the kind of sick that left him with bone-deep fatigue that wouldn’t afford him enough energy to get out of bed, a stomach that refused to keep water down, and a head full of cotton and mucus that barely let him think straight.

Which is why he was simply watching as Trefor and Sara went through their final checks before heading off, feeling guilty and a little useless at not being able to so much as help send them off except nag at them from bed.

It lost its appeal very quickly.

“There’s no need to look so dower and glum, Leon,” Trefor says, leaning against the doorway as Sara went to check on a few last minute details. The man is built like a brick house, handsome with wavy salt and pepper hair and a well kept beard that makes him look a lot older than he actually was. “I’m no vampire hunter, but I know a thing or two about dealing with Fair Folk. I was the one who showed you two the Menagerie Market after all. I’ll look after her.”

“I know, I know,” Leon sighs, not bothering to hide his disappointment over his predicament. He doesn't need to look in a mirror to know the mess he probably was, he could practically feel the ridiculous angles his pale colored hair was sticking up in from a mixture of bedhead and sweat. “It’s just...it was going to be our first trip as an engaged couple...”

“And the last thing you want to do is let your fiancee go off on a trip with a handsome young buck like me, I completely understand,” Trefor says as he strides over to Leon's beside to pat his shoulder.

Leon gives Trefor a flat look before raising a single doubtful eyebrow.

“Trefor, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I have it on good confidence that you’re not Sara’s type.”

“Ha! Don’t I know it,” Trefor replies with a snort, “She’s into six and a half foot willowy giants apparently. Do I even _need_ to make a dick joke out of it? Everybody’s thinking it when they look at you two together-”

The Celt balks as Sara lets out an offended cry.

“Trefor!”

“Sara!” Trefor responds, twisting around with a nervous laugh, “Didn’t think you’d come back in so soon-”

Sara glowers menacingly at him as he laughs awkwardly. She was sweet-faced with big eyes and thick wavy brown hair half done up in twin hair buns that make her look all the sweeter, but she also had one hell of a mean glare she'd clearly inherited from her father.

“Leon help me out here-!” Trefor hisses from the corner of his mouth.

“I’m sick and innocent,” Leon says as he raises his arms in a surrendering gesture, “ _You’re_ the one who decided to bring up genitalia and the impure thoughts of others. You put yourself in the dog house, my good sir.”

Trefor sputters indignantly as Sara continues to glare at him with crossed arms. Finally he seems to wise up and slinks away out the door with a couple grumbles.

As soon as he’s gone Sara lets out an aggravated sound.

“Why does everyone keep bringing up your dick?” Sara demands as she approaches Leon's beside in a huff, “I had one of the girls in the village make the same insinuation the other day.”

“What’d you say?”

“That she’s a married woman and really shouldn’t be fantasizing about other men’s cocks,” Sara answers in a matter-of-fact tone, before adding slyly, “Even if her husband’s can’t satisfy her.”

Leon bursts out laughing. Or, tries to. With his throat so scratchy it’s equal parts laughter and ugly hacking that really hurts. But even as it makes his throat ache it does his heart good.

“I-” He manages out through gasping breaths, “Am a _horrible_ influence on you. Rinaldo’s going to kill me.”

“Papa will do no such thing if I have anything to say about it,” Sara declares, “Besides, he’s already given us his blessing, he can’t just go and take it back. I won’t let him.”

She smiles as Leon fights to contain his giggles.

“I love you,” He says almost without thinking, tilting his head so he can grin up at her affectionately, “I really, really do.”

“I love you too, Leon,” Sara says, equally affectionate as she leans down to stoke his cheek with her thumb, “Get better soon for me, please?”

“I’ll do my best,” He says, smiling as she presses a kiss into the crown of his head. “And don’t bully Trefor too much for me, okay?”

“Oh _fine_ ,” She says in a long suffering sigh, but she’s grinning as she stands up straight.

They both jump a bit as they hear a delicate knock on the door frame, Elizabetha leaning her head in with a small smile as thick dark blonde curls cascade over her shoulders. She has much more handsome features than Sara, but her eyes hold an unmatched gentleness behind them.

“Am I interrupting something?” She asks,

“Just saying our goodbyes,” Sara replies easily, brushing a hair out of her face as she went to greet her friend.

Leon freely admits he doses off a little as the two women exchange their greetings. He already knows exactly why Elizabetha’s there, she’d insisted on looking after him while he’s sick and Sara was away with Trefor. Sara's mostly going over where everything is should Elizabetha need it.

“Right, that should be everything,” Sara says as she slings her travel bag next to the open doorway. “This isn’t ideal I realize, but just in case, Elizabetha I want you to have this.”

Sara fishes something out of her bag before turning around, her latest whip in hand.

Elizabetha stares at the whip with wide eyes for just a moment before giving Sara a flat look.

“Sara, I hope you realize that if _I’m_ the one who has to take up the whip in Leon’s defense, we’re both going die.” She states so solemnly that Leon can’t quite muffle his snort.

“It’s better than nothing!” Sara insists as she presses the whip into Elizabetha’s hands. “Besides, _that_ vampire doesn’t know where we live and he’s the only one that gives me any worry. If in the unlikely event monsters attack just striking one or two of them with this will be enough to scare the rest off.”

“She’s right y’know,” Trefor says as he pokes in his head from the doorway. “The thing makes creatures of the night bloody _explode_ in this squall of fire and demon gore. They’d have to be under the influence of something powerful not to just turn tail and run. I mean, if I were attacking a village and some fucker with a whip did that to a human I sure as hell wouldn't stick around."

“I’ll...take your word for it,” Elizabetha says with a polite tilt of her head, even as she looked to be fighting down the urge to be ill.

“We’ll be fine Sara,” Leon says, drawing everyone’s attention to him. He vaguely gestures to himself, “I can’t exactly get into trouble when I can’t even get _out_ of bed.”

“ _You’d_ be the one to find a way,” Sara snipes back and Leon lets out some more hacking laughter at her, admittedly entirely earned, exasperated look.

“Let’s all just hope it doesn’t come to that,” Elizabetha takes the whip with an uneasy laugh, setting it aside as Sara bustles out the door, Trefor on her heels and dragging the door shut as he went.

“Have fun, you two!” Elizabetha calls out the window.

“Will do Ma’am,” Trefor replies, and Leon hears the cart pull off with a clatter of hooves.

Elizabetha watches them go from the window before carefully closing it with a sigh.

“It’s just you and me now,” She declares,

“Can’t think of anyone I’d rather have looking after me,” Leon replies cheerily. “Thanks again,”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Elizabetha says delicately, “Have you been able to keep anything down yet?”

“Nope,” Leon deadpans, “Actually I’m kind of surprised I made it this long without-”

Not to put too fine of a point on it, but Leon wishes he hadn’t jinxed himself right then. Thankfully there’s a surreptitiously placed bucket at his bedside to minimize the potential mess of his nausea.

“God... _dammit_...” He wheezes out through retches, “I don’t even... _have_ anything to throw up at this point-!”

Elizabetha just sighs in sympathy, gently patting his back while he dry heaves over the bucket.

“I’ve brought some peppermint, supposedly the smell helps with nausea.” Elizabetha offers after she helps Leon lay back down, “I’ll also put the kettle on and make some ginger tea, that also, supposedly, helps.”

“You’re using ‘supposedly’ an awful lot,” Leon observes as he watches her go about her business, fishing a mortar and pestle from the cupboards and peppermint leaves from her bag. “Sounds as if you don’t really believe it.”

“It’s...” She heaves another sigh as she carefully crushes the peppermint leaves, “I don’t _like_ herbal remedies.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re not actual remedies!” She exclaims, grinding with more fervor, “All they do is taste good or smell nice, they don’t do much if _anything_ for healing.”

“It’s more than enough for me,” Leon says, “When you’re feeling poorly, even something as small as something tasting good can make you feel better.”

“That maybe true but it’s still not _healing_ ,” Elizabetha insists, “It’s more a comfort than an actual remedy.”

“A bit of comfort’s all I really need,” Leon insists right back, “It’s not as if I’ve caught the plague, it’s just the flu that always comes around this time of year. I’ll heal just fine on my own, God willing.”

“But what if next time you need more than just a bit of comfort?” Elizabetha snaps, “I want to do something more than just offer a bit of comfort, I want to actually _help_. Not just throw tea leaves at the problem and hope it makes something better!”

She sets the mortar full of smelly peppermint leaves next to his bedside with enough force that Leon carefully decides not to push the matter any further.

The rest of the day passes in a blur. The peppermints do seemingly ease his stomach a little, right up until he attempts to actually gulp something down. Most of Elizabetha’s ginger tea ends up in the bucket as a result. The rest of the time he’s dosing on and off while Elizabetha tries her best to make him more comfortable.

It isn’t until the sun sets that Leon speaks up again.

“It’s getting late, you should return home.”

“I can’t just leave you alone like this,” Elizabetha says incredulously,

“Well unless you want to share a bed with an engaged and more importantly very ill man...”

Elizabetha cuffs his head lightly even as she snickers.

“I can’t in good conscience let you sleep on the floor, Elizabetha,” Leon says far more seriously, “Especially not so close to winter when I’m hogging all the blankets and you’ll just refuse to let me share. Besides, if you do spend the night here you’ll probably just catch what I’ve got. If you haven’t already.”

Thankfully it only takes a bit more coaxing and Elizabetha’s own yawns to convince her to return home, and after she leaves Leon soon falls asleep.

 

Sometime that night Leon half wakes to something wonderfully ice cold pressed against his heated forehead. It feels so nice he almost drifts back to sleep without a single care as to what it was or how it got there.

That is until he hears a very familiar deep voice tutting above him.

“Humans aren’t supposed to feel this warm, are they?”

Leon’s eyes snap open as his heart plummets into his stomach. Sure enough he ends up meeting the red gaze of Mathias Cronqvist.

Cronqvist is, to be blunt, beautiful in that ethereal not quite natural way that only a vampire can so effortlessly pull off, with dark raven feather colored hair, borderline luminescent in the moonlight pale skin, and sharp crimson colored eyes that were both intelligent and far older than his young face would suggest.

He's also been giving Leon grief for the better part of a year now, ever since Leon had the misfortune of garnering his attention when they first met.

And he's standing right at Leon's bedside, ice cold hand pressed against his forehead in an almost motherly gesture if not for the fact that Cronqvist was a _bloody vampire_.

“CRONQVIST!” Leon cries out, bolting up right in a panic.

Or, at least, he tries to. With less effort than was frankly fair, as in so little effort Leon wasn’t even sure it was intentional, Cronqvist keeps his head held down on the pillow with the hand against his forehead while his torso awkwardly lurches up. After a moment’s of futile struggling, he ends up flopping back down on the bed, his burst of energy spent and fatigue returning with such vengeance he desperately wishes just to go back to sleep.

He settles for glowering sourly as Cronqvist finally deigns to remove his hand from his forehead.

“What do you even _want_?” Leon grouses before Cronqvist can do much more than open his mouth. If he sounds a little whiny in his grumbles, he’s far too sick to care at the moment.

“How rude,” Cronqvist chastises in a tone of mock offense as he raises a single eyebrow, “I’d heard you’d taken ill and came all this way just to visit you-”

“You fucking _broke into my house in the middle of the goddamn night,_ ” Leon snaps indignantly, jabbing a finger at the intruder, “ _You_ do not get to say shit about _me_ being rude!”

The other eyebrow joins the first in its attempt to disappear into Cronqvist’s hairline.

“My _someone’s_ in a sour mood,” He says in that infuriatingly condescending tone that always grates on Leon’s nerves. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse so much before.”

“Well, since you’re a vampire I doubt you have experience with this, but being sick is not fun for humans,” Leon replies, intentionally using the kind of tone he would for an exceptionally annoying child, “It makes us very sour and unpleasant because we feel like crap and can’t do anything but sit and suffer through it. So frankly I have _zero_ tolerance for your vampire nonsense right now.”

“You tolerated it before?”

“It wasn’t much but it was there,” Leon insists, “Now if you’d – wait.”

A thought finally occurs to him. Namely the implications of Cronqvist being _in his house_ finally fully registers.

“How the fuck did you even find my house?!” Leon demands, unable to hide the panicked edge to his voice. “My God, have you been _stalking_ me?!”

The panic quickly turns back into irritation as Conqvist laughs.

“You only ask that _now_? Has this fever already fried your brain? I’d heard that can happen if a human’s temperature gets too high.” He asks in a tone that was so transparently bait that Leon couldn't help but reply,

“You’re avoiding my question just to annoy me aren’t you?”

Cronqvist’s eyes widen slightly and he turns to cough nonchalantly into his hand, which is how Leon knows he’s right on the money. He grins with vindictive satisfaction. If there was one thing he’d never grow tired of, it was stealing the vampire’s thunder.

His grin only widens as Cronqvist’s eyes narrow at him.

“You may think yourself very clever, Belmont,” He begins,

“Indeed I do,” Leon replies smartly, and snickers at the irritated sound he gets for his trouble.

“But it makes you look like a childish _brat_.” Cronqvist hisses, leaning forward with a careful emphasis on ‘brat’.

“Oh no, the thousand year old _geezer_ thinks I’m childish, whatever shall I do?” Leon rolls his eyes so hard he’s half surprised they didn’t pop right out of his head. He then glares at Mathias for a moment before sighing out in defeat, “Look if you’re wanting a fight you are _not_ getting it from me tonight. I don’t even have enough energy to stand up right now, let alone play your cat and mouse game."

“I can see that,” Mathias says, straightening up with an imperious tilt of his head, a lot like a cat regarding its prey. “You are a rather pitiful sight right now, I must admit.”

“Well then _please_ , take pity on me and leave me alone so I can be sick and miserable in peace,”

With that he rolls himself over with his back to the vampire and drags the covers over himself to get more comfortable. But before he can even start to drift off, he nearly jumps out of his skin as an ice cold hand settles on the back of his neck.

“There are very few people who would dare turn their back on me, Belmont,” Mathias says, his tone low and dangerous, claw-like nails pointedly ghosting over Leon's jugular as he spoke, “Are you really so foolish?”

 _’For Christ's sake is personal space a foreign concept to vampires?!’_ Leon demands mentally, instead grounding out, "Yeah well I imagine most of them weren't sicker than a dog and too exhausted to give a shit. Enough of these games, Cronqvist, you and I both know if you were going to kill me you would have done it before I’d even woke up. You’re just posturing now for the sake of it and I _refuse_ to play along for your amusement."

Leon jerks his neck out of Mathias's hand and then yanks the blankets over his head in his act of sickly defiance.

Childish? Yes. Actual deterrent to any neck biting? Unlikely. Petty and yet satisfying to his sluggish and feverish brain? _Absolutely_. He hadn’t given this vampire any dignity yet, so why should he start now?

He gets an _infuriatingly_ indulgent chuckle for his trouble.

"Very well, very well," Mathias says in a tone dripping with such generosity that Leon wants to _punch_ him on principle, even if it would accomplish absolutely nothing. "I'll leave you be. But first-"

Leon heard the far too familiar sound of leather being torn. He bolts up right in time to witness Mathias, through brute strength alone, tearing the latest alchemy whip apart as the consecrated leather softly hissed underneath his fingers.

"Oh goddammit can you _not_ destroy Sara's work for once?!" Leon indignantly exclaims, trying to stay up right as Mathias tosses the remnants to the floor. "She finished making that one just last week. _I haven’t even had a chance to use it yet!"_

"She's getting better I must say," Mathias compliments as he examines his own palms before giving Leon a smile he can never tell if it’s sincere or sardonic. "This one actually burned a little."

He twists his wrists around to show his palms, which have unmistakable, though rapidly healing, burn marks. Normally this would be some modicum of comfort, because it was one step closer to actually _defeating_ this ancient vampire.

Right now, however, Leon's far too sick and vexed to care.

"If I die to some random monster because I don't have my whip," Leon declares in as solemn a tone he can manage, "I'm coming back as a ghost just to _haunt_ you for however many thousand years you've got left, _Old Man._ "

Mathias laughs at that. In fact he laughs a bit too much, a bit too sardonic and forced for Leon’s comfort.

“It wasn’t that funny...”

“It’s not your empty threats that amuse me, Belmont,” Mathias says with a wry smile. "It's that you think I would allow some _'random monster'-”_

His grin slips away as the whites of his eyes turn a deep crimson red. It’s a look that makes Leon feel the same way a rabbit must when stared down by a hungry fox. He can’t help leaning back apprehensively as Mathias leans down towards him and finishes with a deep growl,

“- or any _random human_ for that matter, kill you before I do.”

And on that highly ominous note, Mathias disappears in a twisting column of light. Thankfully _not_ fire, because Leon would rather deal with the temporary bright spots in his eyes than have to explain to Sara how he'd managed to set their house on fire. He was already not looking forward to explaining how and why her latest work was now ribbons strewn across the floor. Or the fact that his vampiric stalker did in fact know where they lived.

It was still needlessly overdramatic and flashy however.

" _Vampires_ ," Leon grumps with a disgusted sound before flopping back onto his bed and _finally_ going back to sleep.

 

He wakes up the next morning to poor Elizabetha falling on her ass with a shriek after stepping on the discarded alchemy whip handle.

Thankfully he’s feeling quite a bit better now, so he’s able to get off his own ass to help her up and clean up the mess Mathias so kindly left behind. All the while explaining why there was a mess in the first place, much to Elizabetha’s horror.

“The vampire was here?” She says, “Here, last night?”

“Yes,” Leon sighs, “I can’t get away from that bastard, even in my own home now.”

“God, Leon are you alright? He didn’t hurt you did he?”

“No, I probably wouldn’t have even known he was there if he hadn’t woken me up when he pressed a hand on my forehead.”

Elizabetha blinks at him before shaking her head.

“His hand on your for – you mean like he was trying to take your temperature?” Elizabetha asks incredulously,

“I-” Leon begins before blinking himself, “Wait, is _that_ what he was doing?”

“It certainly sounds like it,”

“Come to think of it, he mentioned something about me feeling too warm just before I really woke up.”

“Why...on earth would he do that?”

“I wish I knew,” Leon says with a sigh, “Frankly I only understand what the hell he’s thinking about half the time, the other half I just chalk up to some kind of vampire nonsense.”

“So how did you get rid of him?”

“I wasn’t exactly happy with him breaking into my house just to be a nuisance so I told him to shove off.”

Elizabetha stares at him, blinking very slowly for a long, silent moment.

“You told an ancient and powerful vampire that has apparently been stalking you...to shove off?” Elizabetha carefully repeats,

“More or less.”

“...And it _worked_?”

“Eventually,” Leon says with a shrug, “He was annoying until he left but I think he realized I wasn’t going to play his stupid game while sick. Bastard _still_ had to go and ruin Sara’s work for no good reason!”

Elizabetha gives him a look like she’s trying to process the fact he was still alive. It’s a look he’s gotten enough to recognize on sight. And predictably she gives up with a sigh. As she’s done many times before.

They have a lovely breakfast, mostly because Leon is starving and finally able to keep solid food down, _hallelujah_ , when there’s a rather frantic knock on the door. Elizabetha goes to answer, because she insists that Leon should still rest regardless of how well he’s feeling.

And who should be at the door but Sara’s father, Rinaldo Gandolfi.

Before Leon can blurt out anything stupid and far more damning than silence like _‘it’s not what it looks like’_ , Rinaldo, completely unconcerned with Elizabetha being in Leon’s house while Sara was away, states.

“There’s been a vampire attack.”

 

The corpses vampires leave behind are the worst in Leon’s opinion. Particularly the ones that have been drained of all blood, because it leaves them hideously shriveled with their emaciated looks of absolute terror frozen on their faces.

And it's even worse when the corpses have been left to rot pinned to trees.

Leon can’t look away even as the small crowd around him bustles with anxiety and fear. Elizabetha’s gone completely pale, a hand over her mouth while Rinaldo stares with a hard look in his eyes.

‘ _Dear God, did these poor bastards take my place?’_ Leon wonders, clutching his stomach as a new wave of nausea washes over him that has nothing to do with his recovering illness.

Of course, it made perfect sense after all. Leon wasn’t well enough to fight Mathias, so he instead finds amusement in torturing these unfortunate sods. Typical vampire behavior. He’s lucky that the whole village wasn’t massacred while he was lying sick and miserable and feeling sorry for himself.

It was a sobering reminder that he was on borrowed time. That as soon as this vampire got bored of their glorified cat and mouse game, he was going to do to Leon when he’d done to these three men.

How long will it take? Months? Years? Decades even? Maybe if Leon was lucky he could go through his whole life and die of natural causes before Mathias finally decided to just finish him off.

But he was never that lucky. If he were, he wouldn’t have garnered the vampire’s attention in the first place.

Leon carefully swallows the impulse to be sick as Elizabetha takes him by the arm,

“You shouldn’t be out here.” She says, carefully not looking at the corpses’ screaming faces, “You’re still sick, even if you’re feeling better. Let’s get you back in bed, alright?”

“I-” Leon begins, only to have Rinaldo pat his shoulder,

“She’s right, now that I’ve got you in the light I can see you’re a bit more flushed than usual,” Rinaldo says gruffly, “I’m sorry I dragged you out here, but I thought you should know first thing,”

“Right,” Leon says with a noncommittal jerk of his head. “Right, let’s...let’s go home.”

As soon as they’re out of earshot of Rinaldo, Leon says in a quiet voice,

“Elizabetha? I think Sara and I might have to move,”

Somewhere secluded where there wouldn’t be any potential casualties when the inevitable finally came to pass.

Elizabetha doesn’t respond, just squeezes his hand.

Maybe it was that he was still recovering from his illness. Maybe it was the shock of seeing three bloodless corpses pinned to trees and knowing exactly how they had gotten there. But a thought finally occurs to Leon, long after it really should have. And it gives him pause as he asks himself,

“Wait, how’d he find out I was sick in the first place?”


End file.
